


Getting a Grip

by rayshant_bestopt



Series: Olivarry2017 [7]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Body Swap, Chastity Device, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-30 10:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11461656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayshant_bestopt/pseuds/rayshant_bestopt
Summary: When a new meta causes a unique problem for the Flash and Green Arrow, the two have to figure out how to handle each other's powers-- along with other problems-- in order to defeat him.





	1. Getting a Grip

**Author's Note:**

> Olivarry Week || Day 5 Body/Power Swap

Oliver really hated metahumans.

Not like, the people themselves. God knows he didn’t hate Barry; or Cisco or Caitlin or Wally or any of Barry’s friends. But damned if coming to Central City didn’t always do something weird because of that particle accelerator explosion.

Like somehow swap his and Barry’s bodies. 

It had started in a warehouse by the docks. Felicity had picked up the police not faring so well in a face off against someone who’d robbed a bioengineering lab, and while the vigilante was _sure_ the Flash could handle one guy...well, there was strength in numbers, right? So he’d shown up, and it turned out to be a good thing, as the guy turned out to be causing some serious issues with his opponents. And Barry-- 

Oliver didn’t think-- he just notched an arrow and let it fly, clipping the man’s shoulder and causing him to release the scarlet speedster, who instantly collapsed to the cold floor. The older man forced himself to remain focused, leaping down to ground level and notching another arrow instead of panicking over the fact that Barry still wasn’t moving from the crumpled heap he’d fallen to.

And the meta-- he’d just _smiled_. Creepy as hell, and then his eyes flashed, and some sort of haze leaving Oliver feeling nauseous, and dizzy…

He woke up in Star Labs, on a gurney with IVs sticking out of him and the bed feeling like it was vibrating slightly. He let out a groan, and felt a wave of relief as somewhere in his mind he picked up that Barry must have woken up too, because he’d heard him make the exact same noise.

“Whoa man, welcome back,” Cisco greeted with a grin, and Oliver moved to rub his hand over his face. “You had us worried there.”

“I’m fine-- what's with this bed? And where’s--” Oliver stopped short as he registered multiple things at once. One, his facial scruff-- _permastubble_ , as Felicity liked to call it-- was now replaced with completely smooth skin. And the vibrating didn’t seem to be coming from the bed, now that he was sitting-- it seemed to be coming from _him_. But most importantly-- the words that he’d just spoken weren’t in his own voice. They sounded like--

“Ollie?” Oliver’s head snapped toward the sound, where his own body was sluggishly turned toward him. He was staring at his own self and not sounding like himself, and he looked down and stared at the lean, gangly form that now surrounded him.

“Barry?” Because even if he _wasn’t_ wearing the speedster’s body, no one sounded like Barry did when saying Oliver’s name. Even if it was in Oliver’s own voice.

But yeah, the whole thing had just gotten really weird from there. Cisco said something about mind whammies and neural displacement, but all Oliver _really_ got out of it was somehow he was now taking up residence in the speedster’s body, and there was still a bad guy to fight.

*** 

After a lot of speculation and hypotheses and ideas, Oliver wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t grateful that both teams left them alone for a little while. Barry never was really good at hiding his emotions, and that level of panic looked unsettling on the archer’s face.

“It’s going to be okay, Barry,” he reassured the younger man, reaching out spindly fingers to grip his own broad shoulder.

“What? Oh yeah, I know,” the words tumbled out quickly, gruffly, and Ollie worried how much this situation was affecting the other.

“Look, until we figure out how to reverse this, we should probably try to just go with it. I figure muscle memory will help a lot, but we should probably train to get the hang of each others’ skills too.” The Green Arrow nodded distractedly, and Oliver frowned. “Barry!” He watched as his own blue eyes turned back on him, wide and with a sliver of that puppy quality that he always thought was solely possible with the face he was now wearing. “Focus on me. I need you here.”

“Yeah, training. You’re right. At least this time you won’t be shooting arrows at me, right?” Even through the gruff laugh, Oliver could still tell that something else was on Barry’s mind, but he supposed this _was_ a lot to take in.

They retreated to Joe’s for the night, because everyone felt it was for the best that the two stay together with some sort of supervision, and while he wasn’t sure about Barry, Oliver refused point blank to sleep in Star Labs where everyone could ogle him like some sort of zoo animal. And as much as he liked Cisco and Caitlin, he just couldn't handle any more commentary about their current condition-- at least Joe was quiet (possibly with shock, but still). He was pleased to see that Barry’s powers extended to a decent nighttime workout, at least, although he found it incredibly frustrating when his body would randomly start vibrating, and that he felt very little strain with his efforts, making his routine seem less worthwhile. When he returned upstairs, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed as Joe informed him that Barry was feeling sore from the earlier fight and had already gone to bed. The man didn’t say anything, but shook his head slightly: mostly at the lack of perseverance on Barry’s side, although he had sort of wanted to check on the younger man again. Barry didn't have the healing factor that he was used to now: he was vulnerable. Oliver knew he was going to have to really push the younger man if he was going to get the hang of the Green Arrow’s body, and he wanted to make sure Barry was okay for that sort of effort. And maybe he was just hoping to maybe talk to Barry a little about their situation, like beyond the whole "I trust you" consent thing that they'd both established in a hurried discussion. Sure, _he_ was fine, but _Barry_ might not be, right? This was kind of a crazy situation, after all. 

*** 

For as many perks to being the Flash, Oliver found that there were more than a few downsides inhabiting the body of a (the?) speedster. It took less than twenty-four hours, however, for him to realize the most awkward by far was showering. He was only half-conscious when he awoke the next morning, and had pretty much forgotten everything in his sleepy haze, shuffling to the bathroom and to scrub off the work of the night before (something he pretty much did by rote now). However, he _was_ a guy, and apparently Barry’s body had really good reserves, because he’d already cum and was half-hard again before he remembered he wasn’t _him_. The Star City vigilante found himself frozen in the shower, hand wrapped around _Barry Allen’s cock_ , simultaneously completely ashamed, mortified, and yeah, _kind of_ turned on by the fact that the person that was pretty much the main source of his fantasy material was whose body he was feeling up, whose morning wood he was stroking, right at this exact moment. Ollie immediately jumped back, his new lightning speed causing him to crash into the shower curtain and pull half of the rings off the rod and on top of him as he stumbled and cursed. Joe apparently had been close by, because immediately after there was a pounding on the bathroom door as the detective shouted to ask if Oliver was okay, and Oliver-as-Barry cursed internally again before answering in the affirmative and finishing the shower on a freezing spray.

After breakfast, in which Oliver found himself eating more than he thought humanly possible (which he supposed made sense, since Barry was a meta-human with an insane metabolism), the group made their way out to the Star Labs hangar. The two groups eyed each of their heroes as Barry toed Oliver’s boot nervously into the pavement, one of his own shirts stretched slightly across his torso and a pair of slacks that Dig had brought over, while Oliver stood rigid, arms crossed against the dark fabric of his tee, wearing the first pair of moveable jeans he could pull onto Barry’s lanky form.

“Wow, talk about different body language,” Cisco remarked, causing Oliver to press his lips into a thin line in irritation-- not that anyone else seemed to be doing any better. Joe looked uncomfortable, Wally seemed ready to crack up, Iris, Caitlin, and Felicity were just staring, and Dig had that knowing look that meant eventually he was going to bring up something that Oliver _really_ didn’t want to talk about. Especially now, while he could feel, smell, taste every inch of Barry around him and trying like hell not to let it get his blood up anymore than it was already.

“Okay, I think we should probably try to tackle Barry’s speed powers first,” Cisco finally vocalized, “just because we don’t want you overshooting Freak Friday by fifty miles or running into buildings accidentally.” Barry's green eyes gave an Oliver-typical roll at Cisco's villain name, but he complied as the two scientists moved forward to help gear him up with his frictionless suit and similar equipment that they’d used when Barry’d first started training, with Wally saddling next to him in case he needed help. 

Oliver instinctively glanced over to see what Barry was doing, and he cringed a little internally as he watched his body fidget uncomfortably. The younger man clearly didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, fingers clenching and extending in uncertainty. His own blue eyes snuck a peek over toward him, and Oliver watched as Barry suddenly morphed his features, biting his lip as it twisted into a shy smile of encouragement; and for a second the speedster shone through his Oliver husk, causing a rush of heat to shoot through Oliver-as-Barry's body, and an incredible awareness of how turned on that body was. _Fuck._ Oliver breathed hard, trying to force himself to cool down so that he could focus on training and not hiding the half-hard bulge in his skin-tight costume.

***

The next day, back at Star Labs and a lot of tests and cortex races with Wally, Oliver waited until the rest of the team dispersed before moving over to grip Cisco’s shoulder with long fingers.

“I need to talk to you.”

The long-haired meta watched quizzically as Oliver-as-Barry paced in front of him, purposely stopping as his speed suddenly caused him to shoot forward much farther than he’d anticipated so that he wasn’t really pacing at all. It was frustrating, but not nearly so much as the reason he’d demanded Barry's best friend's attention in the first place.

“I’m having some...issues,” he finally managed to divulge quietly, trying to convey his meaning in his gaze, but Cisco seemed completely clueless, head just tilting slightly as he considered his words.

“You mean with Barry’s powers? Because you seem to be doing a lot better than yesterday, and--”

“No,” Oliver wished he could focus on tactics and training, but this was driving him insane and Cisco was honestly the only person he felt like he could ask. “Like... _body_ issues.” The other, god help him, still looked confused, and Oliver could feel Barry’s face heating up in embarrassment. And while that look was endearing on the _real_ Barry, on him in Barry’s body, in the current situation, he really just wanted to punch people for being witness to it.

“You mean like-- _ohhhhhh…_ ” Oh god; Oliver actually felt like it was _worse_ having Cisco finally understand what he was getting at. “Yeah-- maybe you should talk to Barry about that.”

“I’m not talking to _Barry_ about it!” Oliver hissed through his teeth, except Barry’s tone seemed physically incapable of carrying a threatening edge. He took a deep breath and scraped his fingers through his hair, staring intently at Cisco, wondering how to unleash the Flash’s damned puppy-eyed stare that Oliver knew made _him_ at the very least willing to do almost any stupid thing the younger vigilante asked. “Just...is this some sort of weird side effect of the speed, or...?”

Cisco bit his lip to stifle a laugh, but his grin was still all but splitting his face. “Well, not to break Barry’s confidence, but I’m pretty sure he’s always been... _fast_ , in that area,” he responded, arching an eyebrow pointedly. “Although his body’s increased metabolism definitely significantly shortens his refractory rate, so if you’re having multiple, um... _issues_ in a short period of time-” he coughed, trying to remain serious. “That’s probably why.”

Great. So basically Barry had the hormones of a pubescent kid, and the regrouping ability of a porn star. No wonder he could never focus on the mission. Oliver sighed. “Okay, so how does Barry usually deal with--” he made a vague waving gesture toward his crotch “- _this_?”

Cisco grinned. “He runs.” Oliver rolled his eyes and huffed, wishing Barry’s lean form was a little less ridiculous as he turned and walked away from the other.


	2. Chapter 2

At the Arrow Cave, Barry was actually really excited. Things were harder, of course-- they took time now, and more concentration-- but still, he’d never been this fast or strong before he’d gotten his powers. It was thrilling as he stretched the bow string tight, eye on the target, and let it fly.

It hit the bulls-eye and Barry-as-Oliver cheered, his fist pumping in the air as he danced a little on the balls of his feet. “Six in a row!” he enthused at Felicity and Dig. “Did you see that?”

“Only one of which actually hit the center,” his own voice critiqued, and Barry looked up to see his own green eyes in a very Oliver-esque expression. 

Barry bit his lip in disappointment, shoulders tipping, “Oh come on, Ollie--”

“Playing with a target is one thing, Barry,” the other reminded him sternly, striding over to where he stood. “But when you’re shooting a rappelling arrow, an inch in either direction can be the difference between sliding to safety and a 200-foot drop.”

Barry slumped in Oliver’s body, feeling the broad shoulders drop in a way he was sure the actual owner didn’t appreciate, and Felicity quickly stepped over to him, hand on his arm and shooting a glare over at Oliver-as-Barry.

“It’s okay, Barry-- no one’s perfect in the beginning.”

“He just needs more time, Oliver,” Dig tried to mediate, but Barry’s hands went up as Oliver vented his frustration.

“We don’t _have_ more time! We need to stop this Meta now, and get back to normal!” Barry watched his own eyes fix hard on him. “Do it again.”

Barry nodded, dutifully reaching back behind him as he dug for another arrow while trying to remember all of the instructions he’d been receiving, along with the tips Ollie was loading him with now.

“Good, just be careful when you stick your hand in the quiver-- try not to touch the fletchings--”

“Yeah,” Felicity piped up helpfully. “In the heat of the moment, Oliver can just naturally get a good grip on his shaft when he’s ready to shoot.” Her eyes widened. “Like, the _arrow_ shaft-- not-- I don’t mean--”

“That’s _fine_ , Felicity!” Barry glanced over at the strain in Oliver’s tone, watching as his own face set his lips in a tight line that was very much typical for Ollie, except with an added tension, and Barry realized-- 

_Oh, crap_. “Uh, guys?” he glanced at Felicity and Dig. “Can we just have, like, a minute? Alone?” The two looked a little surprised by the sudden request, but after glancing from one to the other, nodded and left the room.

Barry paused to make sure they’d disappeared from hearing range before turning a concerned blue gaze on himself. “Just breathe,” he instructed.

“I _am_ breathing.” The response was tense and snippy. “I’m fine, Barry. _You_ need to focus.”

“You look like you’re about to burst--”

“I--” Watching his own eyes widen in surprise as they fixed on him was slightly comical. “You--?”

Barry gave a light, sympathetic chuckle, which apparently aggravated the other man.

“You know, it’s no wonder you can never concentrate, Barry. For fuck’s sake, what are you-- 13?”

Barry-as-Oliver flinched at the retort, shoulders pulling in defensively. Because-- well, yeah, his sex drive was a little trickier to navigate since he became meta, but having Ollie call him out like that, in his own body...his mouth turned down as his eyes hit the floor.

“Shit…Bear, that’s not what I meant.” It sounded kind of funny listening to his own voice apologize to him, but he was still too embarrassed to look up. “I just...I didn’t realize _this_ would be something I had to...adjust to--” Barry felt a hand clasping at his shoulder, and as stupid as it sounded in his head, he missed the comfort of the calloused fingers that were now _his_ hands. “I’m sorry.”

Barry flopped Ollie’s shoulders indifferently, even though he could feel the other man’s gaze on him that proved he didn’t buy it in the slightest. “Barry. Really, I’m sorry-- that wasn’t fair. And obviously, you have this under control, because I’m guessing you haven't ruined two pairs of jeans in the last 24 hours…”

Well that made Barry’s head snap up in shock. “ _Two?_ ” he almost shouted incredulously, and watched in awe as Oliver-in-his-body blushed bright red all over.

“Well, I mean, Cisco said you had some trouble in the beginning too--”

“I never ruined _two pairs of pants in one day_ ,” he shot back in protest and yet still mesmerized by the information. 

Oliver was starting to look a little on edge by now. “Well sorry if I’m used to having a little more autonomy over my hormones!” he snapped, freezing for a second to glance in the direction where Felicity and Dig had disappeared. Barry followed his gaze, then let his eyes flit back to the conversation at hand where Ollie’s fist was rubbing roughly into the bridge of his nose.

“I mean, I talked to Cisco, but--”

“Wait, you asked Cisco about this?” Barry couldn’t decide if he was impressed by Oliver’s faith in his best friend or embarrassed for himself. Not that Cisco didn’t know, but it had been awhile since they’d had to discuss this sort of thing… “Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Because this conversation, Barry?” His hand gestured between them. “Literally the _most_ uncomfortable moment in my life. And I’ve been tied up and tortured.”

Barry bit down on his lip, because, yeah-- this was definitely ranking high up there in terms of awkward.

“But, we both need to be at our best if we’re going to take down this meta--"

"Freaky Friday?"

"Yeah, I'm not calling him that." Oliver shook his head. "But yeah-- so I'm going to need to figure out how to...deal with this.” Wow, Barry wondered if he usually blushed this much, or if Oliver was just _that_ uncomfortable, but better at hiding it with his own body.

Nonetheless, “Yeah, okay. Definitely.” Oliver continued to look at him expectantly, and Barry realized he was supposed to be elaborating on his, um, _coping mechanisms_. “Well, I mean, you know, the usual-- distraction and cool down,” he sputtered slightly, not sure how much work Oliver was used to doing. Since he’d been in this body, it honestly felt like almost nothing phased him in that area. Well, not that he didn’t feel that twitch of arousal, or that heat pooling in his stomach when Barry’s own thoughts strayed too far into... fucked up thoughts honestly, about the body he was currently occupying-- which before had felt a little inappropriate but now were _really_ awkward. Masturbating had become both desperately necessary and yet incredibly, _morally, _wrong. Hell, being in the bathroom period right now felt like he was overstepping an unspoken boundary, even though he'd forced his raging shame to recognize certain activities were _necessary_ and required shedding clothing and...grasping things, in what was hard to think of as an explicitly platonic way. But overall, throughout the normal day and night, Oliver Queen’s body was a rigorously trained machine: no part working without permission. It was honestly kind of like a mini vacation to the speedster.__

____

Ollie was still staring, tipping an eyebrow up at him. “And?” he pressed. “Anything else?”

__

“Long showers?” Barry admitted with a laugh. Oliver seemed less amused, and Barry felt his cheeks heat ever so slightly (Oliver apparently was physically incapable of really blushing)-- yeah, he probably should’ve side-stepped that one. “I mean, running helps--”

__

“Seriously, Barry? _Running?_ That’s all you’ve got for me?” Oliver had contorted Barry’s face into a look of genuine frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Do you know how much I’m already doing? Between this and eating, I don’t know how you have time for anything else.”

__

Barry frowned, feeling guilty that he wasn’t being very helpful. Ollie had been a great mentor for him over the years, and now he needed him to do the same, and the younger man felt like he was letting his friend down. 

__

“Well, I mean…” the idea hit him before he’d really thought it through, and now he wasn't so sure Oliver was incapable of turning red, because _shit_.

__

Ollie, however, was staring at him intently. “Yeah?” he asked, the desperation in his tone carrying his voice up a bit. Barry hesitated, and Oliver groaned. “Seriously, Bear-- I will literally do _anything_ here.”

__

Barry grimaced, but he could never really deny Oliver before-- throw in the wide-eyed look he was hitting him with (was that the "puppy eyes" thing Ollie had always complained about?), and knowing exactly what he was going through wasn’t going to make it any more likely. “Ugh-- it’s back at my place,” he revealed grudgingly, and the older man must have been practicing a lot, because suddenly he felt himself lifted and whisked through the air at a nausea-inducing velocity before suddenly being set back on his feet at his front door in Central City.

__

“Whoa,” he sputtered, still not used to the sensation of superspeed in Oliver’s human body, and he breathed deeply, hands on his knees to prevent himself from vomiting. Acting as a small distraction was that in his peripheral vision he was keenly aware of the self-satisfied quirk playing on Ollie’s lips.

__

Of course, that amusement was short-lived by the realization that they were here, and therefore Barry had to hold up to his end of the bargain, which was _really_ uncomfortable, considering the guy he was here with. But his own green eyes widened earnestly at him, and Barry bit his lip to rack up his nerves before opening the door and shuffling to his room. 

__

Barry-as-Oliver didn’t turn to see if the other man was following-- he didn’t really need to, practically able to feel him as a shadow-- but focused solely on navigating to the closet, reaching up along the top shelf for a shoebox…

__

Grimacing slightly, Barry retrieved the container and reached inside to pull out what he’d been looking for before he could chicken out. He took a deep breath as he turned, and finally let his blue eyes shift upwards to see how Oliver was responding.

__

Wow-- Barry had never wondered what he’d look like imitating a channel bass before, but now he was sure he’d never have to. He was certain Ollie’s normally unflappable appearance was pretty colored as well though, because his ears felt like they were on fire. He cleared his throat awkwardly, fingers halfway curled around the object in his hand.

__

“ _You wear a cage_?” Barry cringed, suddenly unable to look the other man-- himself, ironically-- in the eye.

__

“Well, I mean-- not _anymore_ , obviously. But in the beginning...look I mean, you’ve seen-- I mean, _you know_...with my powers…” God, this wasn’t sounding any better. “Cisco just...we messed around with the idea a little, and it fits under...everything. Even the suit. And, you know, when you get a chance to-- well, you just--” 

__

“I know how to use a chastity belt, Barry!” Barry’s head snapped up at the words, and if possible Ollie was even more flushed than before. Although Barry honestly could feel himself salivating a little at the idea of Oliver in a position where this kind of thing would come into play. A position that _wasn’t_ due to a superhuman libido that needed to be put in check during normal hours…

__

“Okay, okay,” Barry put his hands up in surrender, carefully placing the modified sex toy on his bureau. “Look, I mean...I know this is...you know-- but, it really did help a lot. And no one will know but us, and… I mean, of course _I’m_ not going to…” Well, Barry may _look_ just like Oliver Queen, but he definitely still rambled exactly like himself.

__

Similar to the way the other man was burying his hands in his face. “My god, this is a nightmare,” he murmured, and Barry fought hard to hide the hurt that washed over him. Yeah, the situation sucked, and he got that it was really awkward, but...well, he didn’t think being him was _that_ bad, was it?

__

Finally, Oliver managed to force himself to look back up, breathing deeply and setting his lips in a firm line. “Okay, well...thanks, then, Barry. I...I appreciate this-- really.” The sincerity of the man was visible in his eyes, even though they were actually Barry’s own gaze, and the younger man relaxed a little, nodding with a tiny quirk in his lips.

__

“Look, Ollie-- it’ll be fine. We’ll beat this guy, switch back, and forget all about this.” Well, _Barry_ wasn’t going to forget about any of it. My god, being able to look at Oliver Queen like this was simultaneous torture and ecstasy, and since he lived like that every time Ollie came to town anyways, he was planning on committing every moment of this visit to memory for when he was back in his own body and had to deal with his insanely high libido again.

__

***

__

37 hours. That was how much longer it took before they finally overcame Freaky Friday using each others' powers and a lot of effort. Until they were finally able to reverse the effects, and Barry was back in his own body. He was honestly more relieved than anything: regardless of the flaws of being a lean, gangly nerd, he missed being the Flash-- hell, being Barry Allen. 

__

After the initial jolt of relief of being himself again, the first thing he noticed, hilariously, was that he was wearing the cage. That Ollie had actually _really_ put it on. Both men glanced at each other, although no one else seemed to be aware, and Barry flushed, but shrugged in a _what can you do?_ sort of communication. Fortunately, this actually got a bit of a chuckle out of Ollie, and Barry grinned wider. Because, okay, he was a bit of a mess in the sex department, but at least the other guy didn’t think less of him for it, right?

__

That night, they stopped off at a bar-- sort of their bar, really-- to celebrate. Or at least recover in their own skin.

__

“So, glad to be a normal vigilante again?” Barry asked with a laugh, eyes dancing in the dim lighting.

__

“Absolutely. You know Bear-- I may be a little envious about your superpowers from time to time in a fight, but I think I’ll pass if it means dealing with all the day to day stuff. I mean, having to deal with...I mean seriously Bear-- five times?” he scoffed. “Even when I was at the height of my player days I didn’t get off that much in one sitting.”

__

Barry coughed, eyes widening as they fixed on Oliver. “Five? I’ve never... _five?_ Damn, Ollie.” The older man seemed to realize that he’d apparently had less self-control than the younger even at his worse, because he suddenly became defensive.

__

“You haven’t…? Well, how many times did you ever have to--?”

__

Barry couldn’t honestly believe they were sitting in a bar discussing how often he jerked himself off, but since Ollie had a little more empathy, he allowed himself to reply, “I don’t know-- maybe like three or four at the worst? I mean, I can focus on other things most of the time.” He let out a slight puff of air. “Man, Ollie, I mean, you’d have to be thinking about someone pretty damned--”

__

The words got caught in his throat. Because Oliver’s piercing blue eyes were on him. Pointedly. A little embarrassed, for certain, but there was a definite significance to their expression. One that made Barry’s heart race in his chest, his stomach flipping a bit.  
He swallowed thickly as the silence remained between them. He wanted to say something-- he wanted to say _everything_ \-- but his tongue was dry and heavy, and he’d pretty much forgotten how to use it.

__

The silence apparently got to Oliver, because he coughed and turned back to his bottle, taking an abnormally long pull. "Yeah, I don't know," he finally muttered in excuse, shrugging awkwardly in a way that jolted Barry back into action.

__

“Hey, um, Ollie-- do you...want to go get coffee? Sometime?” It was a dangerous proposal, honestly-- he didn’t even remember choosing to voice the idea out loud-- but well, there it was. Something he’d thought about pretty much since he’d met the older man, now hanging out in the air.

__

Oliver’s face remained neutral, his response unspoken, and Barry felt his stomach sink a little as he worried what might have been a window slam in his face. All of the reasons they’d never tried this-- that these “not-dates” were as close as the Star City hero would allow them to get, Barry mused-- seemed to play just beyond his eyes, and Barry steeled himself for disappointment.

__

“Yeah. That’d be great, Bear.”

__

The Flash blinked stupidly for a second, the words slow to penetrate his mind. But when they did-- the affirmative response and the soft smile that accompanied it-- he couldn’t help it: he face split into a bright grin as he nodded, still a little thunderstruck by the events of the past week that led all the way up to this moment, but one hundred percent certain that a date with Oliver Queen was exactly what he wanted, no matter what had prompted it. 

__

His face morphed into confusion however, as he watched Oliver collect up his jacket and move to throw some bills on the counter as he stood. “You’re leaving?” he asked, unable to hide the distress in his tone. He’d _just_ said he’d go on a date-- shouldn’t Barry at least get five more minutes to appreciate it?

__

Oliver looked over at him with a smirk. “I thought we were getting coffee?” he asked, one eyebrow quirking.

__

“Now?”

__

Ollie shrugged, “Why not? I mean, I know that you’ll need to take care of _other things_ before you head off to bed tonight, so you could probably use the extra calories.” He grinned again, and Barry felt his face heat up. However, he was quick to scramble to his feet and follow after Ollie, and wonder how long would be appropriate to wait before he started making suggestions about _Ollie_ helping him out in that area (since he was already five times a day familiar with his body anyways, apparently).

__

Turns out, one date was the answer.

__


End file.
